by Jude Pittman
"The rest of us may be part of the twentieth century," Jesse said, after a solid jolt had them both rubbing the top of their heads, "but Spirit Water still heats his cabin with wood and fetches his water from a well."
"We have a few old timers like that around Montreal." Martine smiled. "Who's to say they aren't living better than the rest of us."
"That a fact?" Jesse agreed. "We're in luck, there's smoke coming from the chimney and that looks like Spirit Water sitting on the porch."
Jesse braked in front of an old weathered cabin. "Here we are." He opened the door and stepped out of the Jeep. Martine jumped out of her side and met him in front. "These steps are a bit rough," he said, taking her hand and guiding her toward a stack of rough-hewn logs that served for a staircase.
"Thanks." She followed him up, then freed her hand and ran her fingers along the bark railing circling the porch. Fashioned from willow and twisted into a braid, the wood had been aged by decades in the elements. Oversized chairs weaved from the same willows circled a metal fire pit.
A tall, straight-backed Native man rose from one of the chairs. Silver streaked black hair flowed over his shoulders and coal black eyes measured the young couple as they approached.
"Jesse Dancer. You have brought a friend?"
"This is Martine. She's the Family Response Worker at the Friendship Centre."
"Welcome." Spirit Water took Martine's hands and studied her face for several moments. She flushed, and he let go of her hands and turned to Jesse.
"It's been several months. All is well with you?"
"Yes. Except for the problem that brings me here."
"Good. You'll sit." He motioned to the chairs.
"Thanks." Jesse and Martine settled in.
"Something very bad has happened." Spirit Water studied Jesse's face.
"The cops found a Native girl raped and murdered in Stanley Park. They think she was killed by one of our brothers."
"And you do not believe this?"
"No. My gut tells me the killer is a white man posing as an Indian. I've convinced Mark Hanson to let me explore that theory. He doesn't agree, but he wants to catch the killer before there's another murder so he's willing to consider any possibility."
"You think there will be more of these killings?"
"Hanson thinks they're the work of a psychopath. If he's right, then we're dealing with a predator. Once he's tasted blood he won't stop until someone makes him."
"Are you sure it isn't a brother? You know the drugs have turned a lot of our people into animals."
"I know, but this girl wasn't just raped and murdered, she was defiled. The killer strangled her and then he spread eagled her and stabbed a medicine card to her breast."
"Not a Brother then." Spirit Water's eyes flashed. "To rape and kill the girl, this I could believe, but to anger the spirits, no. Even an Indian turned jackal would fear the spirit world."
Jesse nodded and reached in his pocket. "Here's a copy of the Medicine Card they found with the body."
Spirit Water studied the picture. "The snake. Someone has angered a powerful spirit."
"Can you help us?"
"Wait while I get my case. We'll go up the mountain."
* * *
They climbed high, to an old burial ground where centuries ago Native men and women buried their dead. Abandoned by a new generation the grasses grew tall and brittle, gravestones crumbled into the earth. At the entrance Spirit Water motioned them to stop while he stepped up to the gate. Removing a pipe from his bag, he chanted an ancient language as he lifted the pipe stem to each of the four sacred directions. Then he motioned for Jesse and Martine to join him inside.
"I have asked the ancestors to gather. We will light our smudge and wait."
A white mist drifted up from the river below and clouds caught by gusts of wind danced in the clearing. Seated Indian style, facing Spirit Water, Jesse and Martine watched twigs catch fire and curl into smoke.
Jesse bent to the fire, scooped a handful of smoke and washed it down his arms and legs. He spoke a warning to uninvited spirits. "Unclean ones, leave us now, you are not welcome inside this circle."
Jesse sat back and Martine reached in to cleanse herself.
"The Spirits are close." Spirit Water passed the stem of his pipe to Jesse. The medicine man stood and raised his hands. "Thank you Great Spirit. We come to ask for guidance from the spirit world."
Time passed. They shared the pipe and took their turns offering prayers. The white mist filling the circle turned to grey and then to black. Darkness filled the graveyard.
"What's happening?" Martine whispered.
Light flooded the circle and a skittering sound broke the silence. A white rabbit hopped into the circle and Spirit Water started a chant. The rabbit froze as if mesmerized. The light changed to green and spilled over the rabbit fur, turning its white fur green. The animal continued to quiver, and then, as quickly as it had appeared the rabbit darted out of the clearing.
Spirit Water continued his chant.
An owl swooped down into the circle and snatched a mouse. Rodent blood dripped from its beak. The bird flew away. Jesse nudged Martine and pointed to where a coyote with blood red eyes crouched behind a gravestone
The light that had covered them faded and plunged the circle into darkness.
Spirit Water ceased his chant.
"Did you see the same thing I did?" Martine asked Jesse.
"I think so." He turned to Spirit Water. "Do you know what all that meant?"
Spirit Water paused in the act of packing his case. "It is to you that the Spirits have spoken. It is you who must seek their meaning."
* * *
"I've never experienced anything like that," Martine said when they were back in the truck. “What did you make of that scene with the rabbit?"
"I've been thinking back to the lessons the grandfathers teach about spirit talk. I think I've figured out the meaning of the owl and the coyote."
"You have!"
"Well, I'm pretty sure the owl with the bloody mouse in its beak is a warning that there's going to be another killing."
"Much as I hate to think about another girl being killed, it does make a kind of sick sense, especially if the killer's a psychopath."
"So far there doesn't seem to be any motive. Shannon might just have been in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"What about the coyote?"
"Coyote is known as the trickster—the dual sided one, so following that analogy, the killer could be someone who is not at all what he seems."
"That would fit too. A psychopath is seldom what he seems. Remember Ted Bundy?"
"Who doesn't? He's one of Seattle's most infamous sons."
"And yet, everyone who knew him swore they'd never met a nicer guy. What about the rabbit with the green fur?"
"I haven't a clue what that means. Maybe later after I've had time to think about it, something will come to mind. What about you, any thoughts?"
"Well, Alex said Shannon liked to hang around with New Age kids."
"That's right. Her boyfriend's supposed to be one of them."
"It's not such a jump from rabbit fur to hair. Kids like to dye their hair shocking shades. Emerald green would fit."
"You might have something there. I need to take a trip over to that coffee house."
"Why don't you let me handle that? It's been awhile, but with some makeup magic and the right wardrobe I think I could pass for a teenager."
Jesse opened his mouth to speak, and then wisely closed it again. Martine would not appreciate his protective instincts.
* * *
Martine studied her reflection in the bathroom mirror and pouted her lips to apply a coat of dark red lipstick. Her black hair hung straight, and with an iron she'd fashioned a pair of horns like spikes at her temples. She'd coated her face with white pancake, lined her eyes with black kohl, and sprinkled silver sparkles over her gaudy purple lashes.
"My God," she groaned
, "I look like Morticia Addams."
Makeup finished, she pulled on a pair of fishnet stockings, zipped up her black leather mini and laced her feet into combat boots.
Giving herself a last minute once-over in the mirror, Martine picked up her bag and let herself out of the apartment.
At the Java Hut she pulled open the door and stood inside, getting her bearings. There were a few couples seated at tables and two people seated at the bar. Martine walked up to a young girl and pulled out a stool. "You a regular?" She asked.
The girl, thin with orange blonde hair, tilted her head to meet Martine's eyes. "Why?" Her bright red lips parted to show a double row of metal braces.
"I'm looking for my cousin. Her brother said she hangs out here."
"What's her name?"
"Shannon. Shannon Perrault."
"Sure, I know Shannon. Haven't seen her for awhile. What's your name?"
"Martine. You?"
"Diana. You from around here?"
"The Island. I'm at a reunion thing— bo-r-ring. I figured to find Shannon and hang out."
"Les. Over here." Diana called out to a skinny boy with green hair who'd just walked in the front door. "If anyone knows where to find Shannon it's Les," she said when the young man joined them at the bar.
"Hi." He stopped in front of Martine and looked her up and down.
"Hi yourself." Martine met the young man's gaze and held it for several seconds.
"Shannon's been holding out on us." Les leaned against the bar beside Martine.
"Do you know Shannon?"
"We're what you might call friends."
Diana tossed her head and laughed. "They're a bit more than friends. Where have you been all week?" She turned back to Les.
"The Island. Why? What's it to you?"
"Don't be touchy. Martine's a cousin of Shannon's. I figured since the two of you were such a hot item you'd know where to find her."
"Nope. Haven't seen her." He turned to Martine and smiled again. "Diana's got too much mouth. Shannon and I called it quits a couple weeks ago —by mutual agreement. I've been on the Island—trying to save the environment from a bunch of parasite developers."
"Any idea where Shannon's been staying? Her brother hasn't seen her since Monday."
"Sorry. I've no idea." Les shrugged. "She'll turn up. Maybe you'd like to come to a project meeting tomorrow night. Shannon's a supporter. She'll probably show."
"Where are you meeting?"
"We have a house behind the Britannia Recreation Centre. Tell the receptionist at Britannia you're part of Eugene Guthrie's group. She'll point you in the right direction."
"Thanks. I'll see how it goes. Nice meeting you Diana." Martine slid off her stool and waved at the couple as she headed out the door.
"Nice meeting you." Diana called back.
Chapter Four
Once inside her condo Martine went straight to the shower. After scrubbing all the paint off her face and changing into jeans she grabbed a loose knit sweater, tossed it over her shoulder and headed for Jesse's place.
She knocked softly and waited until she heard a muffled, "come in."
She opened the door and heard water running. The sound came from the vicinity of the bedroom and good sense told Martine she should wait in the kitchen.
What the heck. She tossed her head as if to toss away good sense and started toward the sound.
"Are you decent?" She poked her head through the doorway and scanned the dimly lit room.
"Depends." Jesse stepped out of the bathroom sporting a towel wrapped loosely around his waist and lots of bare brown skin. Water drops glistened on his flat belly and strands of jet-black hair clung to his shoulders.
A sizzling current zipped through Martine's belly. "Sorry, I'll wait outside."
"No don't go. Hand me those pants on the bed. I want to hear about your trip to Java House."
Martine shut off her internal alarm and grabbed the pair of well-worn Levis off the bed.
"Here." She stepped to the bathroom and held them out. "I'm turning my back."
"If you insist." Jesse's fingers covered hers and she let go of the jeans, jerking her hand back as if she'd been scalded.
"You can turn around now." His voice whispered against her earlobe. "Why don't we sit?"
Martine shook her head. "You know how I feel about personal relationships between co-workers. I’ll wait outside.”
“I’m sorry, she said, when Jesse joined her on the porch. I love my job and I don't want anything to change.”
"I understand. Speaking of the job, want to take a ride?"
"Have you found out something?"
"I'm not sure, but there are a couple of curiosities I want to check out." He reached into his pocket and pulled out Ed Parker's check. "This is one of them."
Martine took the check and read the signature "That's Shannon's foster father. I wonder why he would give her a check. From what Alex said they were barely on speaking terms."
"Exactly, so why would Parker give her five hundred dollars?"
Martine shook her head. "I have no idea, but I can see why you'd find it curious."
"Yes and then there's this." Jesse pulled out a matchbook and napkin. "According to Amy one of Shannon's roommates, she met a man Monday night."
"I take it you mean someone older than her boyfriend from the Java Hut."
"According to Amy, Shannon said men paid for her company, but Amy wasn't sure if Shannon was telling the truth. Apparently Shannon liked to brag about her exploits."
"Poor Alex, I hope it isn't true."
"I know, but we'll need to find out. Meantime do you mind if we stop by the Fish House?"
"Not at all, in fact, I'm really hungry." Martine slanted a look in Jesse's direction, but he wisely refrained from comment.
"Good. We can kill two birds, as they say, get some food and quiz the wait staff. I'm not too optimistic, there are a lot of tourists visiting the Fish House this time of year, so finding someone who remembers one particular couple will be a long shot."
Martine grinned. "Since we have to eat anyway, it's worth a try."
"Sold." Jesse opened the door of the condo for Martine to pass through and followed her down to the truck.
"Would you like to drive?" Jesse held out the keys, "and do you mind if we stop at UBC first. I'd like to show Alex this check."
"Sure, and thanks, I'd love to drive." Martine buckled herself into the driver's seat, set the GPS for UBC, and pulled smoothly into traffic.
Jesse took out his cell phone and selected Alex's number. His sleepy voice answered on the third ring.
"Alex? This is Jesse. Did I wake you?" Jesse asked, guessing he'd caught the young man still in bed.
"It's okay. I need to be up anyhow. I've got exams this week and I studied most of the night. Is there news?"
"I have a couple of questions. Can you spare fifteen minutes?"
"Sure as long as it's soon. I've a class at noon."
"I'll be there in ten minutes."
Jesse hit the call end button. "If you go around to the museum of anthropology side, you can pull into the drop off zone and I'll cut through the path behind the longhouse. It'll only take a minute or two if you don't mind waiting."
"That's a great idea. Every time I come over here I go nuts trying to find parking. I'll remember this in the future."
"Their parking is expensive – like everything else over here – but at least it's easy in and out and there's usually room in the lot."
At the museum, Jesse left Martine parked under a spreading maple tree, while he took off down a narrow pathway barely clear of brush and brambles and made his way to Alex's section of student housing.
Alex stepped out of the doorway of his building just as Jesse started up the steps.
"I figured I'd meet you out here and save you the climb." The young man offered his hand and a grin.
"Thanks," Jesse chuckled. "I guess my years are showing. I wonder if you know anything abou
t this." He handed over Ed Parker's $500.00 check.
Alex took the check, looked at the signature and did a double-take. "That's our foster dad. But I sure don't know why he'd give Shannon a check for $500.00."
"Could he be paying her tuition?"
"I don't believe it. Ed wasn't exactly a fan of Shannon's, especially after she ran away from the Island. No way he'd give her $500.00 for tuition."
"Okay, so that's something I need to find out."
"Do you want me to call him?"
"No. I'm planning a trip over to the Island this weekend. If you don't mind I'd just as soon drop in unannounced."
"That suits me. I called Mina, my foster mom, to tell her about Shannon. She didn't mention Ed and I didn't ask."
"I also found this." Jesse held up the Fish House matchbook cover. "I don't suppose Shannon mentioned this place?"
Alex shook his head. "That's not Shannon's type of restaurant."
"She probably just picked it up somewhere." Jesse put the check and matchbook back in his pocket.
"I wish I could be more help."
"No sweat. I'm just looking for inconsistencies. Most of this stuff is meaningless, just details that don't quite fit the picture. I'll call you when I get back from the Island. If you think of anything, give me a call. I'll have my cell."
"Thanks. I appreciate it."
"How's he doing?" Martine asked when Jesse got back in the truck.
"He's okay," Jesse replied, "busy with exams."
"That's good, it'll keep him from worrying. Did he know anything about the check?"
"No. He was mystified. He said there wasn't any love lost between Shannon and Ed Parker and he couldn't think of a single reason why Parker would give her money."
"Even before this happened, I wondered about Shannon's relationship with her foster family. She never talked about that family and if anyone questioned her about life on the Island, she ignored them."